The Day
by LoveIsAllYouNeed96
Summary: ONE SHOT / November 2nd has come round again and both Sam and Dean are struggling to deal with the emotional hardships that come with the date. Set early Season 2 after the death of their Dad.


Sam sat on the trunk of the Impala, head bowed, tears threatening saddened eyes. The date had come again. That date. The date that both of the Winchester brothers wished would never come. Just skip over as if it never existed. The date was historically bad in the Winchester household, and even to that day, the youngest Winchester still felt isolated. Now though, Sam felt less isolated, although for a different reason.

November 2nd, 2006.

It had been a year since Jessica's death. The night he had returned to the apartment to find her on the ceiling. The night he was too late to save her. The night he failed her.

It had also been 23 years since the night that his Mom had died protecting him. The Mom that never had the chance to meet, only through photos and rare occasions when either Dad or Dean had actually spoken about her.

He felt responsible for both deaths. If it hadn't been for him, neither Jess not him Mom would be dead right now. They both would be alive and happily living their lives. If he hadn't of been born, then the Winchester's would never have to live through the curse that has caused so much heartache and grief over the years. He questioned what the point of him even being alive was? He wasn't a good hunter, his Dad had made that perfectly clear.

"Why can't you just be more like your brother?"

Because Dean was the perfect child. A good hunter, athletic so he could run laps around Sam when their Dad made them go for a run as part of their training, strong so he was able to take down what they were hunting without much effort, a perfect marksman (because did you know he managed to hit every can set out as a target on his first try with a gun when he was younger). Sam hadn't managed to hit them all, he'd only missed one, but in his Dad's eyes, it was some kind of travesty and a sign that his son clearly wasn't as good at the job as the elder because of it. Dean was also good looking so always getting from girls anywhere he went. The list was endless.

Sam wasn't bitter. If he was bitter, then his Dad would have won. He would have gotten to him so badly that he would physically be bitter toward his brother. But he would never feel like that towards his brother. Any negative feelings he felt were never towards Dean, just his Dad. He treated them differently. Sam being the younger meant that he wasn't dealt the same level of responsibility when they were younger. And that annoyed the hell out of Sam, because he was just as capable as Dean, and no one could tell him he wasn't.

But that didn't matter now, because Dad was dead too. Another member of the Winchester family tree with the deceased title by their name. Dean was still struggling to get over the fact that Dad had traded his life for his. This meant that Dean had been a much colder character over the past few days, the only opinions he offered were quiet, uncaring grunts, and even they were rare. Most of the time questions directed towards him were replied by with a silence as if he didn't even acknowledge the fact that a question had been asked. Of knew and just didn't care.

So Sam knew days prior to the date approaching that this year was going to be as bad as all of the years of their childhood, if not worse. Because Dean always, without fail, grew colder on the date, and added to the whole dynamic he had going on right now, he was making Terminator look sympathetic. His lack of empathy towards anyone they talked to or interviewed was shockingly bad, and Sam was receiving the brunt of Dean's mood. The digs and harsh comments just kept on coming, but he accepted them none the less, because as his brother, that was his job. If Dean tearing strips off him was helping him grieve, then he would take them all, because he wanted his brother back.

It had always been like this during their childhood. Dean and their Dad in low moods because of the death of their Mom. Sam being denied the chance to grieve because in their Dad's eyes, he didn't understand why Sam should because he didn't know her. Angry words would be shouted, and stuff would be said that couldn't ever be taken back. Sam leaving the house before tears began to fall, usually only going round the back of the motel and sitting down against the wall with his knees up to his chest as he buried his head and cried.

"I'm sorry, Mom...I'm sorry, Jess..." Sam spoke in a soft, weak tone as a tear trickled down his cheek.

"Please don't cry..." Came an equally soft voice.

Sam gasped, turning in an instant to see Jess sat next to him on the trunk.

She looked exactly as she had when they were dating, her beautiful blonde hair falling down over her shoulders, her bright eyes so caring as she took in the appearance of her boyfriend, or technically ex boyfriend. Jess knew that Sam would get over her someday and find someone else, but she knew deep down that he would always be hers, until the day he died. He loved her too much to let her memory go, the memories they shared in the time they spent together.

"Jess?" His voice broke slightly as he said her name.

She smiled before reaching down and taking his hand, which was resting on the dirty trunk of the Impala, in hers, squeezing it gently.

Sam smiled too.

"I'm sorry..." She stated after a few seconds of silence.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, this was my fault. All of it. I killed you, I killed my Mom...I killed my Dad...and I nearly killed Dean..." He added.

"You didn't kill us, Sam." Jess stated. "And you didn't kill your Dad either...or nearly kill your brother for that matter either."

"I was driving. I wrecked the car. Dean was in a coma because of the accident. The doctors told me that he might not wake up, and then my Dad traded his life for him. I'd say that's my fault."

"It was the other driver's fault, Sam..." She raised her other hand and cupped his cheek, tucking a strand of hair from his bangs behind his ear. "None of this was your fault."

Another tear trickled down Sam's cheek. "I could have warned you, but I didn't. I should have known what those dreams, or visions meant. I should have saved you!"

"Sweetie, you couldn't have." Jess reassured. "And you shouldn't blame yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault...please believe me when I say that."

"I miss you Jess..._so_ much..."

Jess smiled. "I miss you too."

And with that, she was gone.

Sam sighed, wiping away the tears on his cheeks and in his eyes. He looked down at the trunk, where their hands had been resting. The dirt on the lid was disturbed only by one handprint.

"Sam!" He heard his name being shouted.

Sam turned to see Dean storming over.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you." His tone reflected his mood.

"Sorry, I just needed some air." Sam answered.

"You can take all the breaks you want after we finish this case, you know, when people aren't dying." Dean emphasised.

"I'm sure a ten minute break isn't going to hurt anyone, Dean." Sam stated, dropping down to his feet from sitting on the trunk.

"People are relying on us to solve this." Dean followed up.

"Dean, nobody knows who _we_ are..." Sam explained. "That's the whole point. We roll into town, do some research, kill something and then leave."

"What's gotten into you?"

"Dean..." Sam sighed. "I'm really not in the mood." His soft tone stated.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he turned, walking back towards the motel.

"Did I say something wrong?" Sam called after him, his tone changing to a questioning one.

Dean stopped mid stride, turning back round to Sam, eyebrow raised.

"Did I speak out of line on 'the day'?"

"Sam, don't go there." Dean's tone was becoming threatening.

"No..." Sam shook his head. "Because my whole life I have hated this day!" He stated. "You weren't the only one who lost Mom!" Sam shouted. "I lost her too!" His voice cracked slightly. "She was my Mom too..." He slowed as his temper dropped. "...and I know that you and Dad never used to get the whole concept of how I could miss her, but I do. I miss her so much." Sam paused. "At the time, I thought seeing her at our old house was like some kind of dream come true, that I was actually able to see her _properly_ for the first time...but all it's done is just make me miss her more, because I now know what I missed and am still missing...and that hurts..." He paused once again. "It hurts so much, Dean..."

Dean's tough guy act had apparently dropped as he stood, eyes saddened as his little brother practically broke down in front of him. Dean immediately picked up on the fact that tears were clearly threatening to fall from already crying reddened eyes. "Sammy..." He stated quietly.

"And Jess...she died...and even though she said it's not, that was all my fault."

Dean furrowed an eyebrow at that statement, confused as to what his brother had meant by it.

"And then I nearly killed you, and did kill Dad..." Sam's voice trembled as he mentioned their Father.

The mention of Dad caused Dean to suck in a breath. "Sammy..." He spoke up once again, this time louder and with more determination to actually get his brother's attention.

Sam looked up at his brother.

"It's not your fault you know..." Dean reassured softly. "Everything that you listed there was caused by that yellow eyed son of a bitch, not you..." He paused. "You're hurting...I can see that now, and I was stupid not to notice."

"It's not your fault, Dean." Sam stated softly.

"And neither is any of this yours." Dean emphasised before taking in the broken appearance of his little brother. He could see the immense grief that he was experiencing because of Jess. "Come here." Dean stepped towards Sam, collecting his little brother in his arms.

This was what Sam had missed. His older brother.

Letting down his barrier, Sam freely began to cry once again, burying his head into Dean's shoulder as he cried.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam a little tighter as he gently stroked his back in reassurance. "It's okay, Sammy...It's okay...Everything's gonna' be okay."

Seeing her two boys looking after each other, Mary smiled before placing a hand reassuringly on the shoulder of her youngest's girlfriend who was struggling with her own emotions.

"He loves you." Mary stated softly.

"I know." Jess nodded with a smile. "And I'll always love him too."


End file.
